Kyrie
by metronista83
Summary: Tragedy strikes her life at fourteen, and her world is turned on its head for all to see. Bella Swan is never the same after her famous mother's sudden death, now she must choose between the walls she has built & the man who could bring her back to life.


**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer created all of the characters and storylines in the Twilight Saga. All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

This is my first foray into TwiFic after many years of being a dedicated lurker. This is a story that has been bouncing around my little head for quite a while, I hope you enjoy :)

_September 19, 1997_

_Seattle, WA_

The wind was beginning to gust through the rolling hills of the cemetery as the grey clouds finally descended upon the Seattle sky line. It had seemed unfair that on this of all days the sun could be shining, giving off the happy glow that the woman now lying in the cherry wood coffin had so often longed for during her time in the rainy city.

The smell of the impending September rain mixed with the faint smell of salty tears coming from the large crowd of mourners, all huddled around the coffin at the base of an imposing, ancient oak. As the priest murmured ritualistic prayers, his voice becoming increasingly lost to the wind, a slight fourteen-year-old girl with impossibly pale skin attempted to quell the tremors that had wracked her body for six days. Tears swam in Bella Swan's swollen chocolate eyes as brunette locks whipped around her face, but she refused to allow any more to fall.

_Not here. Not in front of THEM._

It had only been two weeks ago when she sat in front of the television in the pre-dawn hours of a Saturday, watching two children her age walking sadly behind their own mother's coffin. They, too, had seemed to hold back tears while the world watched them and cried for their erstwhile royal mother. Bella had felt a chill race down her spine as her eyes focused on the coffin of a woman far too young to have died, run down by the same types of men who seemed to both love and hate her own famous mother.

Now, the papers could talk of nothing but the eerie similarities between these two tragic deaths. They were beautiful women, both known to the tabloids for their turbulent personal lives, both equal parts obsessed with and repelled by the attention paid them. And now, they were both dead with their controversial lovers after high-speed encounters with the paparazzi. Far from overshadowed by the royal tragedy unfolding an entire continent away, attention on the demise of actress Renee Swan and major league pitcher Phil Dwyer was only fueled by the Paris accident. And the Swan children's lives were plunged into a living hell.

A large hand reached down to envelop Bella's small one, startling her out of the seemingly endless fog of grief. As she glanced to her right, Bella observed the hardened lines of her older brother's face, a firm mask of concentration obscuring his usually gentle features. Jasper's grip on her tightened as his brotherly concern mixed with a need for comfort and solidarity in the midst of the relentless media circus. Even now, the faint shutter of cameras could be heard not far away, vultures sensing the grief and human drama with uncanny precision.

"_Grief mongers." _Jasper sneered to himself, subconsciously shifting his body into a more defensive stance as he became aware of the unwanted attention.

Though the sixteen-year-old wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and scream out the pain, he had other responsibilities today. Just as he always did. Beside him, Bella returned his squeeze weakly, clearly lacking the energy to show any more emotion without breaking down. Casting a glance to his other side, Jasper took in the unusually somber expression of their younger brother. Thirteen-year-old Emmett, who was rarely anything short of boisterous, now stood with a look of pure anguish, uncharacteristically lost in the sea of grief surrounding the siblings.

The service seemed interminably long, dragging well past the planned hour mark as a long line of speakers approached the podium, each offering tributes, prayers and tears in varying degrees of sincerity. It was only as the last mourner made her way back into the crowd that Bella caught site of a particularly unwelcome pair of eyes.

James Dwyer, Phil's only son, leered at her with a gaze that was something decidedly different than mournful. But even James could not break through her haze on this day, and Bella's eyes continued to move around the crowd before finally settling on the imposing oak tree, content to allow her mind to go blank as the final prayers were spoken. It was on rubber legs that she walked forward, Jasper and Emmet flanking her on each side, and closed her eyes as she kissed the top of Renee's coffin.

Cameras shuttered in the background as the rain fell at last, mirroring the tears that now freely flowed down the Swan children's faces. Arms embraced them and led them through the throng and out of the cemetery, into the safety of the waiting cars. Under the awkward gaze of her father, Bella threaded her arm through Emmett's and leaned against the window as they were slowly driven away from their mother's final resting place. Bella would, briefly, be thankful to remember the event only in fragmented pieces, but such a defense mechanism would prove useless in the face of millions willing to remember for her. Her raw pain had unknowingly provided reporters with images so haunting they would be irrevocably burned into public memory.

xXx

_September 19, 1997_

_New York, NY_

"This is depressing. Come back to bed."

Edward Cullen's smooth back was currently turned to the girl in his bed, arms wresting on bent knees as he scanned the television for a glimpse of his family. Though normally immune from the pop-culture drama that seemed to permeate the news, his family had known Renee Swan, and were in attendance at the circus that was her funeral. Though he'd never personally met the actress, his mother had been responsible for the designs of her numerous houses, while his father was had conducted numerous legal interventions on her behalf. Carlisle and Esme Cullen would never dream of divulging the exact details of their time with the unpredictable celebrity to their children, but there was only so much that could be hidden under one roof.

Edward threw a quick smile over his shoulder to Tanya, taking in the strawberry-blonde curls cascading down one pale shoulder. He had been at Columbia University for three weeks and quickly became acquainted with the third-year Russian literature student. Though she was certainly not the only girl welcoming him to the campus, Tanya admittedly took precedents over all of the other eager co-eds. Scooting back a bit, Edward wrapped one arm around her shoulders and began a slow, languid path down her right arm.

"I'm just waiting to see if they show my parents and Alice. You know they always had a soft spot for the woman. Plus, Alice thinks she's totally in love with the oldest boy and thinks the girl is gonna be her best friend one day," Edward replied, an indulgent-if somewhat condescending- chuckle falling from his lips before they found Tanya's.

"Mmm...I'm sure they won't merit much notice with all those big celebrities there," she murmured, nipping his lower lip while twisting a few locks of disheveled hair in her well-manicured fingers. "I, on the other hand, can guarantee you an eye full."

With that, the sheet slipped away to reveal something that Edward had to agree was much more interesting than a funeral. Teenage hormones won out as Edward blindly groped for the remote while palming one full breast, taking his eyes from Tanya's perfect body only long enough to find the offending piece of equipment. All he wanted was to get back to losing himself in his not-quite girlfriend and shut out the real world for a few more hours. Turning his head as he flicked the remote's power button, Edward was assaulted by one last image from the funeral that would burn its way into his consciousness for years to come.

The young, pain-filled face and chocolate eyes of an icon's legacy.

**Chapter End Notes:**

**Thank you so much for taking the time to read, I hope you liked it enough to come back for more! I would love to hear what you all think, so please don't be shy. Follow me on twitter metronista83 for updates, teasers, background and discussion! Until next time...**


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